Disclaimer: I recommend not reading this entry while eating your breakfast or drinking coffee. You are officially warned.
Well there is no doubt that I am my dad’s son. Dad has a history of doing things that could be perceived as crazy over the years. Well I wrote a chapter in my own crazy novel over the weekend. I went home from work early Thursday because I felt like I was coming down with something and stayed home on Friday as well. I immediately started on a regimen of Zicam and Airborne. Saturday was the Shrimp Festival 5k and I had been mentally preparing for the challenge for the past few weeks of running it. Missing it due to illness would have been very disappointing for me. By Friday evening I was feeling marginally better and things had not gotten worse so I declared to Ali I was going to attempt the run the next morning. Ali checked the weather forecast. It was not good. Windy with a chance of rain. Strong wind while running back and forth over a bridge would not be enjoyable.
So I get up Saturday and my gut feels unsettled. In the hour or so before I was to leave I made two less than pleasant trips to the bathroom. Before I left I told Ali about my bathroom visits and the gusty winds outside. Ali told me I should just bag it and stay home, that it was dumb. I agreed with her, it was dumb, but I was going anyway.
On the drive up to Fort Myers Beach the skies looked foreboding with low, gray clouds whipping along. The wind was very strong, strong enough to move the truck around as I drove. This was going to suck. This race again is held along a parade route so if I didn’t want to get trapped, I had to park far away. I planned for this by throwing my bike in the back of the truck. I parked on one of the streets that leads up to the beach at metered parking. There was only one other vehicle parked there and it was empty.
After I went up to the parking machine and bought 3 hours worth of time I felt like I had to really take a leak. There was no way I would be able to make it up to the race without relieving myself first. So I did a quick survey of my surroundings. The houses on either side were sort of blocked by vegetation. There were a few people walking back and forth on the beach but again, far enough away that they shouldn’t notice. So I get close to the truck and start to let loose. Then IT happens.
It was a uncontrollable. In a split second I felt something unintended happen. The smell confirmed I was not dreaming. Yes, I crapped my pants. I can only imagine what my face looked like as the horrible realization came upon me. I am at the beach with no bathroom in site, supposed to run a 5k in an hour or so and here I stand with a load in my pants. My mind was racing, what the f am I supposed to do? I walk slowly around to the drivers door as to not disturb “things” and open the door. I take an inventory of the amount of napkins I have in the console. There are probably enough to get the job done but there is no place to do it. For a moment I entertain the idea of trying to perform some sort of clean up miracle while in the cab of the truck but decided it would be a physical impossibility. What to do, what to do. I could not believe this was actually happening.
So I decided I HAD to find a bathroom to address this. So I get in the truck and position myself so I am almost at a 45 degree angle so I don’t make matters worse. I don’t bother to put on my seat belt. About a mile or so down the road I spot a Publix and decided that would be a good option. I pull in and carefully and deliberately walk right to the bathroom which thankfully was in the front of the store. I was happy to see the bathroom was vacant. I go into the handicap accessible stall and the fun begins.
I was very lucky to be wearing brief style underwear instead of the boxers I normally do. If I had boxers on there probably would have been no return from this disaster. At least with the briefs the damage was contained. I carefully remove them and throw them in the trash. I try to be considerate and cover up the evidence with an abundance of paper towels. I clean up and then pull up my shorts which thankfully had a liner in them. I leave the scene of the crime quietly, glad to have at least minimized the collateral damage.
I stood outside my truck for quite awhile, thinking about what I should do now. I still feel somewhat sick, the weather is shitty with huge wind, the 5k course is the hardest one I have ever run and to top it off, I had just crapped my pants. What if I had an accident during the race? I may jump off the bridge to avoid the embarrassment. I told myself a sane person would just bag it, I mean come on. Well the insane part of me won out. I set the goal of running the race out there and I wanted to do it. I pulled the bike out and headed up to the race. I told myself that I at least wanted to get my race packet and t-shirt and I would see how I feel once I get there.
The bike ride there did nothing to make me feel better about my decision. The wind was so strong that it made riding a bike into it very difficult. By the time I covered the 3 miles or so to the race my legs were tired from fighting the wind, not how you want to feel before a race. So I check in and walk around for a bit, drinking some water to hydrate. My stomach still didn’t feel great but it was remaining stable. With about a half hour to go to the race I mentally committed to run it. The turn out wasn’t great due to the crappy weather. They didn’t set up the normal finish line ladders because the wind would have blown them over.
Originally I had goals of bettering my time from 2 years ago of around 25:20 for this race. The circumstances surrounding the morning changed my goal just to one of survival. I wanted to finish without stopping to walk, that was pretty much it. So the race starts and pull out slow and steady. Early on there were the people that like to pass. It’s hard for me to resist the urge to speed up when people go by but I know there is a good chance I will catch up to these people later when they die from going out fast.
The first part of the run leading up to the bridge the buildings somewhat sheltered the runners from the gusting winds. However once we turned the corner and started heading up the bridge there was nothing to deflect it, it smacked you head on. I bet the wind was gusting close to 40 mph. You felt like you were running in place at times between the steep incline and the wind. A few times the wind knocked me over a couple feet to the side, it was pretty miserable. I just kept my head down and pushed ahead. As expected, a lot of people walked on the hill. Each time I passed one I rang up a mental notch on my belt.
As the race progressed I sort of forgot about all of the crap (no pun intended) leading up to that point. The split times that I was getting weren’t too bad, the adrenalin was taking over. The last mile or so I really picked the pace up and in doing so took down a number of people that had passed me earlier. During that last mile only one person managed to get past me. I accelerated to the finish and was somewhat disappointed when I saw 26:20 on the clock, a full minute slower than my effort of two years prior. Of course the logical part of me knew that all things considered it was a fine effort.
I was tired but not fall over exhausted. The clouds and wind at least helped to keep my body temperature down. I just made it inside the top 100, finishing 99th overall and 7th in my age group. Once I confirmed I wasn’t going to receiving any awards and after eating some bagel I hopped on the bike and headed back to Publix. The ride back was a pain in the ass as the parade had started. Trying to navigate in between the spectators and the oncoming parade was tricky. At the end of the parade route I got diverted into the grass by some mean looking woman that was clearing the way for the marching band which took up the entire road. The ride back was far easier because the strong wind was now at my back, pushing me along.
As I rode up to the truck I took a glance at the windshield. I was afraid there may be a note saying something like “I KNOW WHAT YOU DID!” The windshield was bare. I threw the bike in the back and got in the cab. I took a moment to think about the bizarre sequence of events that had just taken place. I actually finished the race after all of that. I mentally gave myself a pat on the back. I called up Ali and told her of the events of my morning, including the disaster in my pants. Of course she laughed her ass off. I would have done the same thing. By the time I got home she had left to go to her fraternity lunch thing.
I was quite spent and did very little Saturday afternoon. I watched Into the Wild, based on the book that I read based on Dad’s recommendation. It is about a young kid out of college that throws society to the curb and lives the life of a “tramper” hitchhiking across the country doing all sorts of things, culminating with a trip to Alaska to live in the wild. It was a good book and it made a good movie as well. It is the type of movie that shoves a big finger in your face and makes you realize just how f’d up life is today. How people try to artificially create happiness with money or things. It will make you think about your life. That may or may not be a good thing depending on your point of view. It gets an A.
The rest of my weekend was low key. I still didn’t feel 100% normal. I also found myself feeling depressed on Sunday, maybe post race letdown. Late in the afternoon I went to the track with Ali and Nicki. Ali ran and Nicki and I watched/followed. Nicki was funny, she wanted to be with Ali as she ran so I would run on the grass inside the track as Nicki trotted behind her. Nicki couldn’t go for long periods, maybe a quarter lap at most. Of course I wasn’t feeling much like jogging after the race anyway. So we run with Ali a bit and then cross the infield and meet her on the other side and run with her some more. By the time Ali was done with her three miles Nicki was pooped out big time. It’s much more exercise than she is used to receiving.
Although I still feel less than healthy, at least my knees came through the race more or less unscathed. I dare to say they almost feel as good as they did in 2005/2006 (knock on wood)
Ali may be going to pay for the fencing supplies today. If she does, we could be breaking ground some time this week. Over the weekend we stretched line along the property lines to give us a visual guide when placing the posts.
So I hurried into the utility room and grabbed my bug catcher. Wolf spiders are so big, almost as big as the palm of my hand with their legs extended, it is hard to get them into it. My initial efforts to snare him off the slider glass were unsuccessful and resulted in the spider briefly landing on my hand before I shook him off like a scared woman. The spider ran for it and headed out on the lanai. I didn’t want to hurt him. I was lucky enough to lead him enough that he ran into the bug catcher. I pinned him down, closed the catcher and then set it loose outside. It’s hard to explain why I don’t just smash creatures like this. My rule is basically live and let live. Now if the insect/arachnoid bites me, all compassion is out the window and it will become a skidmark. I pretty much take the same position with people. 
